The Three Faces of Dubya


Oh God, make the pain stop. Please.
Watching Bush stutter and lie on national TV is a painful, painful experience. I'd rather have my gums scraped than watch Bush speak. Anything at all than watching this man smirk his way through a so-called press conference. Watch as Bush doesn't answer the question! See Bush repeat the same things over and over again, hoping the next time, someone with an IQ above 80 will actually believe him! Hear Bush snort and huff in that open-mouthed way that witless people do! Feel your own intelligence drop while you watch!
It's just awful. It
almost makes me feel sorry for him. I think Bush believes what he says, and I know he is carefully cocooned and screened away from anyone who would tell him otherwise. "Yes, Mr. President." "Right away, Mr. President." "Of course, Mr. President." I saw a wretched, small man speak to the nation the other night. A man who would rather be almost anywhere but where he was, putting up a brave front for the guys pulling the strings, trying to believe in his small, binary way that he could actually making the world safer, if he praised God just a bit more, if he pressed just a little bit harder.
Soldier on, Dim Son. Keep on believing against all evidence or even logic that all it takes is a somber tone, some evasive answers to softball questions, that little hunch arm thing you do when you want to appear incredulous, and a smirk to convince the world of your folly.
I'll keep burying my head in my pillow, pretending that the world isn't going to hell in a handbasket.
Who knows? Maybe we'll both be right.